Runs In The Family
by Mugen7
Summary: Even worlds apart, the bloodline remains strong.


**Runs In The Family**

 **Written by Mugen7**

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 _"The essence of strategy is choosing what not to do."_ – **Michael Porter.**

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 **Act 2  
Nightmare Memory**

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 _ **The 5th Hierarchical City – IBUKIDO – Block.14**_

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After being tipped off by the **Mad Puppeteer** the **Grim Reaper** made haste for the Fifth City with hopes of settling the score with the **Goddess of Death** herself. Unfortunately, what the famed reaper got instead was an onerous fight against the **Mad Dog** , Azrael.

"Haaaah... Haaaah..."

This, inarguably, had been the rebel's toughest and longest fight to date.

The Blockaded District had been driven even more into a shambolic mess; the world further harrowed with cataclysms in the fare of battle. Ragna bore witness to and felt a greater depth of hunger from the muscled man who robbed countless lives in a stage of war (much like his right arm, be it a far cry from its true, calamitous form), and their violent collisions had a profound effect on the atmosphere itself. The heavens boiled with deep red intensity as tenebrous clouds loomed overhead, and the distant, scenic horizon became shaded pitch black; the setting an iconography of destruction and the end times ahead.

On his last leg, hung onto his weapon for support, Ragna breathed with difficulty. His body convulsed from the dire onset of fatigue and his head snapped up every time it nodded downward, the vision in his left eye blurred slightly as blood painted his face.

Interrelated with a determined mind and strong will, the struggle of the fight had brought the rebel to a new level of strength, but he had long since reached the apex of his latest breakthrough, not fortunate enough to make another. Accorded with his Drive, the Blood Cain IDEA had been utilized significantly longer than all the times prior to now. Deployed at maximum output the _IDEA Engine_ came to reach the limit of its ability through the long-winded head-to-head, and with it losing its function, Blood Cain's suppressed detrimental effect wound up placing a burdensome toll on Ragna's health once more.

"What the hell was she thinking...!?" He thought out bitterly, condemning her – Nine – for cluing the battle freak on his whereabouts, likely just to spite him by some twisted sense of humour.

In light of his own improved physical abilities, Azrael's still far transcended the peak of physical fitness. The unbelievable physical energy the man expressed was unfathomable; strength, speed, agility, along with his endless stamina and sharp wild senses, Azrael defied logic; and in spite of how well the reaper managed to hold his own, his power eventually proved inadequate to keep up with the ridiculous pressure outpoured by the blue-haired male who stood firm with his hands in his pockets, with the second level of his _Tyranny Curse_ lifted; a voracious aura that boasted the texture of fire which flowed passionately with aggression, a rhythm of life and death.

 _'There's no possible way this guy is human...'_

As their fight went underway their spiritual pressures collided in full force in a war of attrition, working relentlessly to get the other to submit; and while Ragna's own force from earlier proved credible in having his body and Aramasa's edge honed to such a high extent to rival his opponent clash for clash, as the fight drew out, it painstakingly wasn't enough in the end to overcome the man who managed to reimburse his own durability and counter Aramasa's edge and rounds of dark-based attacks without being scathed any further. It was demoralizing. No matter how much he thrashed him, no matter how many times he slashed him, and no matter how many times Soul Eater successfully managed to tear at the man's life-force, theman of genocide just _would not_ go down.

"God damn... hunk of muscle..."

Excitement, passion, unadulterated love; Azrael rushed the rebel forcefully again and again, indefatigable as he charged with sensual pleasure that only the heat of battle could grant him; and although he lacked "technique", the powerful combatant staunchly pursued him with a wild fighting style that held no need for such. With the man's preternatural raw ability that defied common sense, his full understanding of the human body and surprising use of intelligent tactics, the **Deathbringer** unleashed terror on the **Grim Reaper** (the best the latter could do was barely fight the former to a standstill until the tables abruptly turned).

… There was, however, still a way for Ragna to tip the scales in his favour.

 _'I won't release it,'_ he decided with serious commitment, gripping his right arm tightly.

While the _BlazBlue_ would assuredly tip the scales again, it wouldn't be long until Azrael was delightfully encouraged to lift another of his limiters to close the gap.

 _'I'm far too along already as it is.'_

Not only had the intense fight pushed Ragna far beyond his natural limits, the cumbersome exertion of the grimoire's facets sped up the erosion on his body. All along the tattered right side of his apparel, a thick curtain of darkness with pulsing and branching red lines covered the length of his arm, and having worked its way up from beneath his shirt collar, blackness enfolded onto the right side of his face like an amorphous mask segment, his red eye turned into a purely distorted and minacious white visual. A motif of the **Black Beast**.

The fragile alliance between himself and the grimoire had grown weaker during the course of the fight, considerably with the _IDEA Engine_ slowly failing to act as a suppressor now that the blonde lass who watched from a distance could no longer _Observe_ him, and by activating it Ragna would only embolden the encroachment with the limitless amount of magic element that'd be constantly drawn from the atmosphere and the _Boundary_.

Damage caused by the remnant's take-over was irrevocable, and the risk of prolonged operation of it far outweighed the benefits he would gain, even more so when he didn't know how far the **Mad Dog's** power could climb.

"Heh heh heh... HAHAHAHAHA!" Azrael smiled ravenously, laughing with utmost elation, brought to the precipice of madness.

"I LOVE IT! I can't remember the last time I FELT so alive!"

The man pulled his hands from his pockets.

"You are WORTHY Ragna The Bloodedge; more than meets the eye!" He rejoiced like a child, wholly satisfied that his opponent exceeded expectations and more than lived up to his nickname.

"Gr!" Ragna grunted as he tried to stand up straighter.

"F'hahahahaha..."

He watched as Azrael lifted his hands, open-palmed and fingers spread apart.

"Son-of-a...!" another sense of foreboding hammered itself into the reaper as he watched his adversary take up that _one_ iconic stance.

"Against you..." Azrael started, his aura moving around with stronger vitality and flaming with a deeper coloured red hue, "I can lift even more of my restraints!"

The pressure increased.

"N... No way...!" Ragna blanched as the frightful sensation grew worse by the second.

"Enchant Dragunov... Level 3... Level 4, _RELEASED_!"

The ground shook violently in the continual wake of Azrael's power; the exponential pressure skyrocketing to monumental, phenomenal heights.

As he tried not to be knocked off his feet, Ragna's tremulous struggle came to a jarring halt. He felt completely frozen over as his heart thundered in his chest; the force exhibited by Azrael was so absurdly overwhelming that he desperately fought back against the indiscriminate attack of supremacy; the weight crushing him as the heat from his adversary's aura seared.

"Come on, **Grim Reaper**. This isn't all you have to give, I know it!"

He was unable to speak. He could do little more than grin and bear the **Mad Dog's** pressure as he mustered up as much composure as he possibly could.

"I need something bigger, TOUGHER! Something that can drive me to unleash EVERYTHING!"

 **The One Who Carries the Death** raved with exhilaration and unspeakable bloodlust.

"You're still holding out on me. Show me the strength of your calamity, the POWER of the _BlazBlue_ , so that I may revel in the carnage! The death and _PAIN_! I shall sink my fangs into you, and GNAW at you to the very last bone, UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT!"

Raga sighed, exasperated by the "bloodthirsty bastard".

 _'Sure bit off more than I could chew.'_

The muscled juggernaut proved to be an impossible (unstoppable and immovable) force to overcome, but the reaper had no intent on becoming the **Mad Dog's** next meal.

"Ragna..."

The reaper turned around as a rosy vampiric scent entered through his sinuses.

"Rabbit?" He acknowledged the Gothic blonde matriarch who left her safe perch to stand beside him.

"Unless you have an apt means of grasping victory then I suggest you stop while you still have breath."

Officious nonetheless, the blonde looked to be slightly more humble towards him, having lost her former magnificence as an _Observer_ and choosing now to jump from the box seats to wholly embrace a role on the stage.

"Rachel..." the rebel addressed the blonde carefully, paying close attention to her frame. "You scared?"

She may have appeared balanced at first glance but Ragna noticed that Rachel fared no better standing at the same distance from the blue-haired man. She teetered on the brink of collapse as she fought to withstand the weight of Azrael's force with his fourth limiter released.

"Humph!" a glint of discontent pierced through the vampire's eyes. "I assure you I feel _nothing_ of the sort."

Ragna eye-rolled. "Sure."

"Do not roll your eyes at me."

"HEY!"

Both vampire and rebel turned to Azrael who let loose a feral snarl.

"Get out of my sight, trash!" said the **Mad Dog** rancorously, very unhappy about the vampire stepping into the scene. "I won't have ANYONE interfere in my fun with the reaper."

Rachel took serious umbrage at the man's opening remark towards her.

"How dare you address me that way!" She reproved, eyes sharpening dangerously as fleeting currents of electricity flickered around her form.

"A small-fry like you isn't even a decent meal." Azrael glowered, challenging the blonde's scrutiny.

Ragna intervened.

"Stay out of this Rachel."

"I shan't." She replied, disregarding the rebel's request.

"Rach-"

"Cease this foolishness at once Ragna. Your condition is now much too dire for you to continue fighting." The vampire professed, examining the rebel's body that was ensnared by red-lined shadow, ravaged by the grimoire's upheaval.

"I can handle this, Rabbit." Ragna said with plain mannerism, his straightforwardness vexing to the Alucard family Head.

"You despicable, negligent, incorrigible fool of a man..."

The vampire took a breath to still herself.

"Is your mind so debased as to believe you can carry on? Has your simpleton brain been concussed to the point it can't even conceive what will become of the world should you transform into that ghastly creature here and now?"

Rachel mourned inside. The reaper's life was a flicker compared to her own, and as much as she (secretly) wished for the rebel's life to not be shortened anymore... his end was inevitable. She would rather he passed on as human as possible than step any closer to the fate that was colder than death itself for him alone.

"Ragna...?"

"ENOUGH OF YOUR MEDDLING VAMPIRE!" Azrael barked, enraged that his "fun" underwent ongoing postponement. "REAPER! HURRY UP AND DEAL WITH THE GIRL BEFORE I DO IT _MYSELF_! I still haven't had my _fill_!"

The man's aura spiked; dark bloody streams of red whipped and meandered wildly.

Ragna kept steady throughout, his equanimity recovered sufficiently enough.

He took the vampire's emphatic concern to heart. Inextricably bound, his life had and always would be intertwined with the re-shaped corpse and the powers that lied within it. Nevertheless, despite his grim condition the reaper had every intention of fighting as a human to the very end.

"I made a promise to myself, Rachel... And I intend to keep it." He said to her solemnly.

Rachel searched the reaper's unblemished gaze; an eye like jade, as striking as on the day from when they first met.

"… Very well. If you are adamant to see this matter through to its conclusion, then... I will allow you to do so." She acquiesced, turning her head away and bowing it slightly, eyes adrift.

Ragna smiled. With more of his vulnerability overcome, he stood tall as he addressed the blue-haired combatant who grew extremely eager for them to resume their fight.

"As for you..." he began, watching the broad smirk spread across the man's face. "Sorry to say... but I'm not gonna activate the _BlazBlue_."

Azrael's smirk quickly fell, his mood turning dour.

"… What?"

Ragna grinned, "Yeah, I don't need it to deal with ya."

The muscle-bound fighter threw a fit.

"Why? WHY!? WHY WON'T YOU USE IT!? I've been patient, WAITING for you to fight me with your full power **Grim Reaper**! So hurry up and ACTIVATE IT!"

Ragna stood unfazed by the man's outburst.

"Heh, not a chance **Mad Dog**. Besides, I've got something more powerful up my sleeve." He proclaimed as he clasped his weapon to his belt.

"Really now...!? Something _more_ powerful?" Azrael enquired, curiosity piqued.

Rachel herself appeared curious. She wasn't aware, nor did she believe the rebel had anything other than the _Blue Grimoire_ at his disposal that could be considered powerful, so the only explanation had to be his statement was simply a ruse to appease the **Mad Dog** for whatever he had in store.

"You have a plan I presume?" She questioned the rebel, glancing his way.

"Yeah, and a brilliant one too."

His mind conjured up one sole method he could use to deal with the **Mad Dog** , one productive strategy he believed to be a sure-fire way for him to best his foe.

"Well don't keep me waiting, Ragna The Bloodedge." with a fiendish smile, Azrael smacked his fist into his open palm and cracked his knuckles. "I've still yet to teach you more about the powerful and wicked violence that exists inside me."

Rachel was becoming stifled by the battle freak's next surge in pressure.

"Such a barbarous man."

She winced and took multiple shallow breaths.

"Whenever you're ready, Ragna." She watched him attentively as he stared onward.

"… Do you trust me?" He asked.

The headstrong man himself was guilty of acting as conspicuously violent as the brute who stood across from them, and his brazen-faced approach to just about everything was a clear reflection of his lack of acumen; clear ignorance worn on his face.

Crude and rash... yet, his battle against Azrael, as dangerous as it had proven to be for his volatile condition, did more than act as a mere face-off like any other. The fight challenged the rebel; improved him. It ameliorated him as a combatant to such an extent the vampire beheld the reaper demonstrate greater mastery over the _Blue Grimoire_ and his proficiency with his arsenal of _Magic Formula_. His swordsmanship - though compelled ineluctably still to hold a deep-rooted emphasis on extreme strength and causal of large destruction like a raging destroyer - progressively displayed a surprising level of precision in its strikes; he exampled creative intuitiveness that reminded Rachel that he was in fact capable of brilliance, he made use of the tactics implanted in him by his mentor long ago, and what impressed the blonde most, was Ragna's cool-headedness throughout the duel; for a substantial period of time he flowed, maintaining a constant state of mental alertness and physical readiness when attacking and being attacked by the growing force of terror.

 _'You have a great deal more in common with Him than you realize, Ragna.'_

In their current moment, more than ever before, Rachel held newfound respect and faith in the **Man of Blue**.

"Yes... I trust you." Came her answer, lips curling to a small degree.

Ragna smiled softly at her.

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna need something from ya real quick."

An unsettling vibe trailed up Rachel's spine as Ragna placed his altered right hand on her back.

"Wha-!?" For a brief moment the vampire felt a measure of her strength stripped away, enough to cause a loss in balance and have her drop to her knees; a sigh of sepulchral-like air channelling upward from the battle torn ground.

"D... Did you just...!?" she threw the rebel a look of profound shock, flabbergasted as she caught sight of energy being drawn into the _Blue Grimoire's_ focal point.

"Y-You _ungracious, iniquitous, INSUFFERABLE_ -! How DARE you use that infernal contraption on ME!"

"Get ready Azrael!" The reaper warned, dismissive of the blonde's vehemence.

"Don't you DARE ignore me! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Rachel renounced all positive critique she had of the reaper moments ago, utterly cross that she had been victimized to the Soul Eater.

"Yes YES! COME AT ME **GRIM REAPER**!" Azrael howled, feeling the rebel's power begin to rise.

"I am not done with you Ragna The Bloodedge! What you did was inexcusable!" Rachel blustered.

"It's part of my plan Rabbit."

" _Really_!" her brow creased. "Please, enlighten little ol' me of this _plan_ of yours that required I have my energy stolen!?"

Ragna's power shot up further, and as it seemed his energy would blast out...

"Ah!" Rachel yelped in surprise as the rebel threw her over his left shoulder.

"TO RUN LIKE HELL!"

Imbued with the power of the vampire's soul the reaper high-tailed away from the **Mad Dog** post-haste in the opposite direction, his speed rapidly boosted continuously by the inception of a strong wind.

"...!"

Seconds passed.

Azrael remained where he stood, totally incredulous and dumbfounded by Ragna's arbitrary course of action.

"Haaaaah...!"

He stewed in boiling anger.

"REAAAAAAAAAAH!"

And bellowed in explosive outrage.

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"Unhand me this instant you deviant!" Blushing, Rachel fumed upon having been thrown unceremoniously over the running man's shoulder, his hand on her tush.

"Not now Rabbit!" Ragna ignored her discountenance and focused on running away with urgency, as it would appear, back in the direction of Snow Town.

"Ragna I demand you put me down this instant!"

" **Grim REAPEEEEEEEEER!** "

The two were alarmed at the booming cry of Azrael who chased after them with the increasing speed of a severe wind.

"You've gotta be kidding!"

"He is gaining on us Ragna!"

"Not if I can help it!" He drew on more of the vampire's power to up his acceleration.

"Stop that!" Rachel shrieked, bum clenching as she felt a tingling sensation pass through and down her body.

"DON'T YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM ME, NOT WHEN WE WERE STARTING TO HAVE MORE FUN!"

"I MAY BE RUNNING, BUT I'M RUNNING TO LIVE LONGER!" The reaper yelled back to his angry and vociferous pursuer who chased him through a slipstream.

"For pity sake."

Embarrassed, tired, and lacking the necessary vibrancy to make life easier on the reaper and just teleport themselves away, Rachel hung limp, miffed and uncharacteristically amused on how much of a disaster the event had turned out to be.

"I'm not through with you, Ragna."

"Whatever, you can punish me later!"

She would hold him to that.

"GET BACK HERE RAGNA THE BLOODEDGE!"

"SCREW OFF!"

* * *

 _ **Meanwhile**_

 _ **Someplace**_ _ **far away**_ _ **…**_

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… **Click!**

After kicking a man in the leg and expressing his general dislike for the people of an East Asian island nation, a tall and strapping broad-shouldered elderly man with grey hair and well-groomed facial hair, wearing a long tan overcoat over an olive green turtle-neck topped with a carmine sweater vest, white gloves and dark slacks with black shoes, listened to music from a quaint portable cassette player as he walked through an airport terminal to catch a flight to see his beloved daughter over a serious family matter.

"Hmm!?"

Suddenly, the man stops. A phenomenal, unexpected feeling enters him. He cannot fully form the right words to describe this experience, only that it feels... _bizarre_. But he welcomes it openly, and though there is no proof of this "something", he feels deeply connected in some way to the "someone" who just performed a spectacular act; an act that fills him with an insurmountable level of pride that he winds up crying.

"I don't know who you are... But whoever you are mystery person. I salute you!"

* * *

 **FIN**


End file.
